


too many pillows

by Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/pseuds/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome
Summary: Cassian is on a diplomatic mission and can't fall asleep.Pure romantic fluff, no angst
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	too many pillows

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to cassandor for the prompt! Comments welcome--I'm doing my best to write some fluff for these trying times.

The problem with the beds in the Hapes System, Cassian thinks, is that they have far too many damn pillows on their beds. This one, in his official ambassador's room, has no less than twenty, each one embroidered with glittering, itchy ribbons, and all of them in garish pastels to match the too-plush quilt. Worse, he’s pretty sure the pillows are scented with some sort of flowery perfume, as if that has ever helped anyone sleep.

How, in the name of the Force, was he supposed to get enough shut-eye to try and return to treaty talks at breakfast tomorrow? Was this a new and cruel form of torture, a way of depriving sleep by being overly generous with pillows?

Cassian fusses with the blankets again, then the pillows, trying to move them into a more comfortable pile. There’s too many of them but it feels wasteful to push one to the floor.

He’s not used to missions like this, where the inconveniences are many and the dangers are few. There’s been no threats of assassination, no shootouts in alleyways, just too much food at meals and too many pillows on the bed.

It’s a strange contrast from how missions used to be but he knows better than to complain. Much.

After all, this was what the Rebellion had fought for, right? Peace and the right to a stupidly high amount of pillows on a bed?

He mutters a curse in Festian under his breath, missing his bedroll on the U-Wing, which had the exact right number of pillows: one.

The door whooshes open.

His hand goes to his holdout blaster. A moment later, he relaxes, because it’s only Jyn. She’s still dressed in the pale blue jumpsuit she’d insisted on wearing to tonight’s formal dinner. Jyn had loudly announced she’d be dead before she wore one of the corseted, tight-fitting dresses that were in fashion on this planet,

There had been a reason Cassian expressed concern about Jyn coming on diplomatic missions, now that the war was over, when Leia had suggested it. But right now, a smile curves his lips and he can’t find it in him to regret the fact she’s here.

After all, the dinner had been far less stuffy than they usually were.

“Heya,” Jyn says, half-way through a yawn. She enters the room, letting the door close behind here. Gracelessly, she kicks off one boot, then the next, so that she padded toward his bed in mismatched socks. Somehow, she manages to both spend a fair amount of her salary on clothes and never have matching socks. At least, Cassian thinks, she’s learned to take her shoes off.

The fact that Jyn has become at all domesticated is a marvel to all of Rogue One, though. It’s a fact known to them all. Bodhi has settled down with Luke, and Chirrut has dragged Baze off to run an orphanage on Jakku, but Jyn has stubbornly refused to leave the Rebellion-turned-government she had so reluctantly joined in the first place. Even as Cassian’s role has changed from spy to general to ambassador, Jyn has stayed by his side, refusing all titles and promotions.

It’s her own sort of loyalty, he knows, and he also knows he wouldn’t have her any other way. Even if it means that he has to come up with interesting explanations and fast apologies at state dinners for Jyn’s… manners, as well as losing the occasional bit of paperwork that might suggest that Jyn Erso has picked the pocket of yet another wealthy sycophant.

Kaytu cannot accompany Cassian on missions like these. A former Imperial droid raises too many questions at a state dinner, more than even a woman in a pilot’s jumpsuit. So, Jyn keeps him safe these days and Cassian keeps her out of jail and together, they keep each other company.

When they return to base, they both get fussed over by an annoyed Kaytu, and then, the cycle repeats.

“Hi,” he replies, still not moving from his barely-comfortable place on the too-large bed, though his eyes follow her as if she is the only star in the sky. Cassian will never tell her that she is more beautiful in her jumpsuit and mismatched socks than every one of the glittering women of the Hapes delegation in their jewels and finery.

Jyn digs in her pocket and reveals a small bundle. “Late night snack?”

Cassian sits upright. “Did you… is that one of the deserts from dinner tonight?”

“Yup.” There’s a soft crinkling of food-safe foil as Jyn unwraps the candy. “There were leftovers. So I took them.”

With a groan, Cassian slumps back onto the pile of pillows. “This is a diplomatic meeting, Jyn. We’re here to make friends.”

“No, you’re here to make friends,” she replies, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’m here to keep you safe.” With the treat unwrapped, Jyn smiles, then pops the whole mint-flavored sweet into her mouth. “And for the snacks.”

Despite himself, Cassian chuckles. “We’ll be sure to add that to the mission report.” He likes that word. _We_. It means something different now, when he says it to Jyn. It’s a closer bond, a deeper connection, than he’s ever had. She’s more than a comrade, more than the person he trusts to watch his back. 

After her treat is consumed, Jyn tips over, landing right on top of him. He exhales sharply, though she’s landed gently enough not to cause any pain. Or rather, any severe pain, given how her elbow is digging into his side and her cold feet, even through her socks, are pressing against his calves.

Jyn curls up, using his chest as a pillow and draping his arm over her side like a blanket. “Can I stay here tonight?”

The request isn’t unusual, these days, though it would have nearly made him faint, had she asked a year ago. Things change. Slowly, sometimes, but they do. Even for Cassian, who had thought himself immune to change and impervious to feelings like affection. Even for Jyn, who might be one of the most guarded people he’d ever met. 

However much he’d changed, though, Cassian is pretty sure he’ll never be able to fall asleep on a bed with so many pillows… even if Jyn is at his side.

At least the minty smell from her snack has overcome the too-flowery scent of the sheets.

Cassian yawns again. Oddly enough, the bed seems a little more comfortable now, despite the weight of Jyn pressing against his ribcage. “Sure.”

“Good.” 

She nestles a little closer, tugging the quilt over her legs and leaving his toes completely uncovered. Her hair, longer now than it had been during the war, and accented with bright blue streaks, tickles his nose. 

Cassian sneezes.

Jyn doesn’t move. Rather, her eyelids slide closed, her own little rebellion against him. Not that he minds this sort of rebellion, not now. Beside, he'll strike back and steal the quilt away from her.. somehow. He tugs it. But she's got it wedged firmly beneath her hips. He’s stuck now, with too many pillows under him and Jyn on top of him. “Erso?” he asks, gruffly.

“Hmm?”

“Did you mean stay in bed with me, or stay _on top of_ me?”

“Oh?” Her voice is already hazy with sleep. Unlike him, she’d been able to chase down slumber on any number of surfaces. “Probably the latter.”

He grumbles and she giggles. Both of those things, like the way they say _I love you_ are part of a private language, spoken only in safe places, known to only their hearts. Perhaps in time, their love will become something that can be shared outside of closed doors and private ship cabins. Perhaps in time, they’ll have their own home and a bed to share every night.

But, Cassian thinks stubbornly, right before he falls asleep, lulled by the sound of Jyn’s heartbeat, his bed will never have as many stupid pillows as this one does.


End file.
